


Three’s a Crowd

by Icon_UK



Category: DCU (Comics), Nightwing (Comics), Robin (Comics), Superboy (Comics)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-16
Updated: 2019-11-16
Packaged: 2021-02-07 11:27:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,749
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21457288
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Icon_UK/pseuds/Icon_UK
Summary: The nightmare collision that Damian has been dreading finally arrives. Will he survive the experience? He's honestly not sure.
Comments: 3
Kudos: 27





	Three’s a Crowd

Damian frowned, but that was nothing new.

He had contingency plans of course, his contingency plans had contingency plans, but somehow Grayson was, as usual, just blundering along in his seemingly random fashion and the universe was, also as usual, happy to go along with him, presumably because the universe liked him, or possibly owed him a favour. It just wasn’t FAIR!

He’d been dreading this particular situation cropping up, he’d scheduled everything to make sure that it would never happen. The timetabling alone was a nightmare, but some things were never supposed to happen, at least not if he had anything to do about it.

Kent was his frie… ally, and Grayson was, well “Grayson” and never the twain shall meet. Or that was the plan at any rate, the lengthy, complicated, never-ending plan.

Admittedly, it wasn’t Grayson’s fault that he was having to land a borrowed Batwing at their underwater base after a missile attack by the Penguin had got out of hand, nor that Kent was so determined to beat Damian’s hi-score at Cheese Vikings (a futile mission in Damian’s opinion) that nothing this side of a meteor strike would make him leave.

Of course, a meteor strike couldn’t hold a candle to Grayson’s disruptive powers.

His oldest brother had dashed in from the landing bay, where the smoking remnants of the Batwing were sparking rather worriedly and slammed the blast door shut before more smoke could get in. His Nightwing costume looked little the worse for wear but he made a show of dusting it off.

“Hey Robin, thanks for letting me crash your nest. I’ll help tidy it up when the fire systems are finished…. Hey, nice set-up you have here.”

“Of course, father would only supply his son with the finest of resources and Superman felt he had to match him.”

“The empty pizza boxes and soda cans are a nice homey little touch though.”

“Don’t forget, I’ve seen your apartment Grayson, I think some of your leftover Chinese food had achieved sentience.”

“Hey, don’t knock Noodles, the Won-Ton Wonder, they’re good company… and speaking of company...”

Amid the various noises of the base, including the fire suppression system in the landing bay, Grayson had homed in on the unmistakable sound of bread-stick against cheese-wheel on a 96” next-next-gen plasma screen, because of course he had.

Jon’s focus on the game was so intense that he didn’t sense Nightwing approaching and perching on the back of Damian’s gaming seat, even when Damian saw Grayson was making sure to make some sort of sound (another of his irritating habits was his casual stealth ability). Super-senses were clearly wasted on Kent’s, Damian made a note to remind him about that, with maybe a training exercise or five.

Quietly, so as not to cause too much of a shock Nightwing said in a low tone “Duck left, then swing a Double Gloucester Axe Strike on the guy in the middle.”

Without turning around Kent frowned, “The middle? But Madam Edam is the one to take out first and she’s on the left”

“Trust me, the guy in the middle.”

“If I lose this level because of …. Wow… That actually worked! How did you know she was using an illusion spell on herself?”

“Madame Edam is the Stilton Sorceress, and her illusion spells are located in her earrings, so she can’t disguise them. Always check for who is wearing the earrings.”

“GRAYSON! You are not supposed to give advice to my hi-score rival! My distant rival, I might add.”

Jon finally defocused from the screen and paused the game. Damian would have sworn that Starro himself couldn’t have made Kent do that.

“Wow! It’s _**YOU!**_”

It was a common enough reaction to meeting Nightwing, but it always set Damian’s teeth on edge, no one said that when they met HIM, or if they did, it was more along the lines of “Oh. It’s you”

“You’re Nightwing!”

“And you would be Superboy!”

Jon grabbed the proffered hand and pumped it up and down with an embarrassing amount of gusto.

“My dad has told me so much about you, Nightwing!”

“And he’s told me a lot about you too. I’m amazed it’s taken us this long to meet.”

“Yeah, things just never seemed to line up.”

Was it paranoia that made Damian think that both of them were directing a sidelong glance at him as they spoke, but no, that wasn’t possible. He’d played the whole situation perfectly.

“And I think you can call me Dick if you like. But I think I’d like my hand back now, please.”

Jon looked down to find he was still strenuously shaking hands and blushed.

“Sorry… Thanks. And I’m Jon, but you knew that didn’t you. Of course you knew, you’re Nightwing. You’re like the best detective in the world, apart form Batman of course but still…”

Damian felt that enough was enough and interrupted.

“Grayson is in the upper echelons of detectives… at times, but I’m not sure I’d rank him that high.”

“Neither would I, at least not compared to my little brother.”

“Thank you. Grayson”

“I was talking about Red Robin”

“THAT IMPOSTER IS NOT MY BROTHER! Take back that vile slur!”

He caught the look Jon and Damian were sharing, before both dissolved into laughter.

“Is he _ALWAYS_ that easy to play, Dick?”

“Jon, you have NO idea”

Damian didn’t blush, he NEVER blushed. The red that flooded his cheeks was, he was sure, down to perfectly justifiable anger, but if he said anything, he was sure they’d misread it, probably deliberately, so he just scowled.

“Dami, we’re kidding, honest.”

“’Dami’?” the undercurrent of threat was unmistakable.

“Sorry, your crib, your rules. _Robin_.”

It would be unfair, if not entirely inaccurate, to say that Damian sulked for the next two and a half hours, but he felt he had been provoked.

After checking in with his parents (who, on hearing Nightwing was visiting, agreed to an extended curfew without a qualm) Jon had volunteered to help him clear up the mess the Batwing had left in the bay, and his superstrength and speed helped the situation immensely. Damian had encouraged this as it meant that Grayson would be leaving sooner.

As Dick worked on making the Batwing viable again, with Jon casually hoisting the heavy equipment like it was made out of polystyrene and Damian replacing and fixing some of the more complicated electronics.

Basically, Kent and Grayson got along as well as he had feared, swapping stories and laughing… a lot. Mostly of the stories were about Kent’s father, whom Grayson had long had a peculiar fascination with.

Jon was clearly impressed with the number of times Grayson had helped Superman, and laughed as Grayson explained how Superman had in turn rescued him from a number of ridiculous deathtraps. And Grayson seemed fascinated with the minutiae of the Kent’s tedious rural life before they had moved to Metropolis.

Things moved on to more recent adventures.

“Robin has been telling me he’s training you in your powers”

“Is THAT what he’s saying? Well, yeah, he’s been giving me some pointers. Mostly very aggressive pointers.”

“Well, as long as your Dad and Mom approve of them, then you should probably listen to him, he’s really good at that sort of thing, and they’re very good at telling if things are a good idea. It’s the other things he’s maybe not so good at.”

“You mean like being nice to people?”

“That _is_ a work in progress… I think it’s genetic though, I mean, look at Batman.”

“I can hear you. you know”

“Was counting on that little bro.”

The resulting “Tt!” was probably audible from low orbit.

FINALLY Damian’s ordeal was over. The three of them were finishing off a celebratory pizza after the Batwing was repaired, and Nightwing declared himself ready to head out again. Batman had signalled that the Penguin was taken care of, for now, so Dick just had to drop the Batwing back in the Batcave before heading home.

Grayson fist-bumped Kent and somehow managed to get close enough to ruffle Damian’s hair, though anyone aware of the Boy Wonders skills would know that he he must have LET Nightwing get close enough.

As he headed towards the landing bay, Dick coughed “Sorry, smoke residue. Good luck with the Cheese Viking hi-score marathon Jon. I’ll be rooting for you!”

“Thanks Nightwing! I’ll keep your tips in mind.”

Damian’s “I’ll see you out.” was approaching absolute zero.

They stood in front of the Batwing, admiring their handiwork.

“He’s a great kid, Damian. He’s no Boy Wonder, but he’s got Lois and Clark as his parents, that’s a good start.”

“I am aware of Kent’s strengths, as well as his flaws. He is an acceptable ally for the moment.”

“Uh-huh.” Damian had heard Grayson use that tone before and knew what it meant. “And one of the strengths he gets from them is that he is completely loyal to his friends. You’re very lucky.“

Damian paused “I said… I AM aware…”

Dick smiled, he knew what an admission like that cost his youngest brother.

“Call me soon. You never know when Bludhaven might need the Dynamic Duo”

and with that, he departed.

Damian headed back to the game room, where Jon was waiting for him, a ridiculously large grin on his face.

“So, that was your big brother? He really is great isn’t he? Dad always said so, but now I know what he means.”

“_Everyone_ says so!”

Jon may have been ten, but he was nobody’s fool,

“I meant he’s great… you know, for a guy his age… He must be what, thirty, thirty-five? Who says “crib” any more? And does he EVER stop talking?”

Damian knew when he was being patronised, but didn’t push it. He appreciated the effort.

They both relaxed in the mutual silence… until Jon wanted to start playing "Cheese Vikings" again, after that, normal chaos was restored until their curfew.

Post-script:

Jon’s first reaction when he’d heard Dick cough and talk about smoke inhalation was to X-ray him, but then he saw what Nightwing was really doing. Jon knew enough sign language to get the basics of what Nightwing had been rapidly signing against his chest with his back to them and, after looking up some of the signs he didn’t know online, came up with “_D is hard work, but worth it. You’re a good friend to him. Thank you_.”


End file.
